


Neutral Color

by raenett



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mention of past trauma, Post-Canon, THIS IS SELF-INDULGENT, implied trauma, nothing graphic, these boys are growing if i have to do it myself, they're healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raenett/pseuds/raenett
Summary: neil and andrew both have colors associated with past trauma, and blue isn't one of them. ensue an adoration of the color blue, plus some personally growth and healing.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Kudos: 57





	Neutral Color

Andrew has begun to be drawn to the color blue.

“It’s a neutral color,” he had said when Neil asked him why.

Neil didn’t question it, but he knew the similar underlining meaning as to why Neil avoided the color red. The Butcher wore red ties quite often. His mother liked the color red.

Andrew started incorporating it into his life slowly, a pair of blue boxers here, a blue backpack there.

Before Neil could realize it, he was often wearing a blue hoodie that Andrew frequently left on the chair in the bedroom.

It clashed entirely with all the orange Neil wore, but he couldn’t bring himself to care so much when he saw Andrew wearing a pair of his orange shorts one day.

At one particularly mundane practice, Allison pulled a green shirt out of her bag and held it up at Andrew. To most, the way his jaw tightened and his shoulders raised a minuscule measure wasn’t perceivable. But Neil saw.

Andrew just threw a bored glance to the shirt and said “No” before walking away.

Of course, Allison didn’t think much of it, but when Andrew took a blue shirt out of Neil’s bag, she gave him a weird look. He didn’t respond with anything but a shrug.

One weekend when the Foxes had an away game, the hotel lobby was green. Neil spent the night sitting beside Andrew, offering distracting conversation and a reassuring presence.

Another weekend, the rooms were painted red–like Nathaniel’s old bedroom, like his father’s tie, his mother’s dress, like his blood on Riko’s knife–and Neil slept on Andrew’s shoulder in the beige hallways.

The rest of the foxes, one by one, began to notice, but never questioned it, never bothered them, and offered escape routes should they notice too much red or green in one room.

It started slowly, after Neil had agreed to see one of Betsy’s colleagues, after graduating and after an apartment had the names “Minyard” and “Josten” co-signed on the lease; that Andrew introduced the idea of painting the kitchen trim green. A light green, almost pastel, different from the dark greens that made him stiffen one day, but that day they started taping the trim up. By the end of the second day the kitchen had green trim.

A year later, Neil said that they should get a red carpet for the living room. “Renee said it would tie the room together,” was his defense. Andrew didn’t mention that Renee didn’t care about interior decorating, much less for an apartment that wasn’t hers. And so by the end of the week there was a plush red carpet in the living room. Neil had grabbed Andrew’s hand, dug one set of toes into it, and then another; and smiled on an exhale almost indiscernible from his normal breathing. Andrew couldn’t help but give a small smile back.

The foxes, when they imposed themselves, never did mention how red and green didn’t quite mesh with the rest of the apartment’s blue hues, and neither did Andrew or Neil.


End file.
